


'Facing the Reality'

by Finfan89



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, angst all around, mentions of drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-25 20:30:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3824089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finfan89/pseuds/Finfan89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'' Aye, and so many other families hav' lost someon' to that cursed sickness.''</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Bitterness of Loss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bofur1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nori arrives at the Dwarven Kingdom of Erebor after weeks of travel...

… _._

 

The full-moon shined brightly and illuminated the massive sized Mountain of Erebor as it loomed over New Dale, the city having been restored to it's former glory following the war of the Rings which had shaken Dale once more. And Erebor.

 

King Brand, the successor and grandson of King Bard the Dragonslayer, (who took his crown when King Bain's time as ruler was at an end) had made sure that the vast human-city ruled by was doing well and beginning to prosper again.

…

 

But a lone, bedraggled dwarrow clad in worn travelling gear never looked upon the restored building structures or swaying flags as he rode towards the foot of the Mountain.

 

Nori could feel his heart-beat quickening as he looked to the looming Mountain before him, his face adorning a pinched expression from headache that was stress induced over what he would find once he was back in Erebor.

He'd rode back from the woods near Bree as quickly as it had been physically possible, still holding on to hope that the raven's tidings werent true; and that his older brother was alive and well.

 

He stopped at one of the stables surrounding the base of the Mountain Kingdom and dismounted.

He took his time dislodging all his the travelling gear and the saddle before grooming his pony until Gem's fur shined in the dim light of the candles.

 

Gem showed her appreciation when Nori lead her to the stalls and heaved in a large bucket of water and a pail of hay, by rubbing her snout against her owner's chest and nibbling gently at a long whisp of greying hair that was hanging out of the thief's normally immaculate hairstyle.

 

Nori couldn't help a small chuckle as he dislodged his hair from Gem's teeth and rubbed a hand against the stout and tough little pony's soft nose.

 

On his way out the stables Nori deftly slipped a small pouch of coins into the waist-pocket of the snoring Stable-keeper as payment to keep his pony fed and cared for in the coming days.

 

The sleeping dwarrow never even felt the pouch being sneaked into his pocket with quick, deft thief's hands.

 

Neither did he realize that the small chest of coins he kept for storing his pays was being smuggled from the stables by a thief's hand. 

….

 

Closing the stable-doors behind him, Nori swallowed as he briskly made his way into the heart of Erebor.

 

The gait of his feet, nearly as quiet as the darkness surrounding him, knew their way inside the Mountain halls so well that the dwarrow barely had to look where he was going.

 

And yet he was mindful of potential 'shadows' that weren't from any looming building.

 

And a pair of shadows did indeed move suddenly in his line of sight, prompting Nori to reflexively grip and pull out one of his hidden knives in a blink of an eye.

 

It was a testament that told a story of how long he'd lived a dangerous life.

 

With no attack forthcoming, Nori slowly returned the knife to it's sheath.

 

His return had been noted by the spies of Erebor, it seemed, and his return would likely be promptly messaged to King Dain at such a late hour that it would predictably cause another explosion of furious bellowing and chair throwing within the household of the Royal-House.

 

Shaking his head at over his king's predictably cantankerous nature, Nori continued on his way until he was looking straight at the town area where many lower-class families lived in houses built from stone.

Houses that had been restored and made into comfy homes filled with love and laughter during the day.

 

Now many of those houses were in darkness due to the lateness of the evening.

 

The small Teashop that had been Dori's pride and joy for years since Thorin Oakenshield's company reclaimed the ancient home of the dwarves was right in front of him in utter darkness; with none of the large candles or torches strewn in corners of the upper-levels lit and burning steadily as the dwarrow inside finished his paperwork before his bedtime.

 

Nori could feel his hands shaking as he carefully climbed the wall to the upper-floors. His heart pounded in his ears as he rested his hands on top the windowsill and peered inside.

 

He could barely see anything inside when normally all furniture was in plain view for the eyes of those who wished to sneak about.

 

Nori bit back a cry of denial and abruptly pulled away from the windowsill like it had suddenly turned- red-hot and burned the skin of his hands.

 

He almost flew down the side of the building in his haste to find answers from the very person whom had sent him the ominous message.

 

…....

 

Meanwhile in another family house a certain miner, turned toymaker, was spread eagled on top his dripping bedcovers with a terrible hangover to nurse.

 

Such was the repercussions of his actions yesterday, but if anyone were to complain to him about his drinking-habits these days, they would promptly be told they could march straight to Harad and get themselves stuffed for all he cared.

 

He was in mourning, after all, and staying in the courters of the home where his little brother, his wife and youngest children lived, was rubbing him off sleep.

 

What had occured in the early hours of the morning some four months ago still haunted him and made him loose sleep and drive him away from hunger.

 

And push him to drinking more than he out to have done, much to his brother's and cousin's chagrin.

 

But in what other way did they expect him to have reacted upon finding out about the death of a loyal friend and companion not two weeks before tragedy had struck his brother's family was doubling his despair and heart's agony?!

 

What made his current mood even more miserable, was that he was now dripping-wet with a splitting hangover; thanks to the shenanigans of a spy from the 'Underground'.

 

The Mahal be damned 'Ardofir' had unlocked the window of his sleeping-courters and had sneaked in to wake him up with a large ladle-full of ice cold water to the face.

He'd used one of Bombur's cooking ladles!

And had not the common courtesy to wait for his spluttering to end before promptly warning him that his friend Nori had returned to Erebor and would likely seek him out for answers.

 

And before Bofur could hack out a word in, Ardofir had already disappeared out the open window.

 

'' Brace meself for him coming to find answers, by me beard!'' Bofur grunted out miserably as he reached out grab his beloved floppy fur-hat from the night-stand and jammed it on his head.'' Ohhh, me head!''

 

'' Oh, an' ya probabl' earned it, ya bloody fool. Were ya drunk when you sent me that message, Bofur?'' a familiar voice drawled from the shadows of his borrowed room, and Bofur very nearly toppled off his bed at the suddeness of his friend's arrival.

 

'' Mahal's hammer and tongs, Nori, how many times hav' me tol' ya to not sneak...''!'' Bofur yelped out as he sat up and flung his legs over the side of the bed, only to give a low whine and grab his head in pain.''

 

'' Has Dori gone to Dale on one of his excursions to sell his teas?'' Nori asked before the toymaker could splutter another coherent word.

 

Bofur's words froze in his throat, and he blinked up at the thief in confusion.

 

'' Bofur?'' Nori prompted when the other did not answer him right away.

 

He emerged from the shadowy corner of the room and Bofur could see the haggardness and the thinness in his body that spoke of many weeks without barely any meals or sleep. His eyes distorted by same sort of hauntedness that mirrored the toymaker's own.

 

'' Nori...'' Bofur finally answered hesitantly, now realizing that the other was still in denial despite the message he'd sent via raven,'' yer brother... is gone. I'm so sorry, my friend.''

 

The disbelief and barely hidden pain that crossed the spymaster's face made Bofur want to weep.

 

'' One of the healers who'd been stayin' at the Teashop for weeks was already walking out the door with his medical-equipment when Daloa arrived at the shop with lunch for your brother.'' Bofur quickly continued.'' Dori had died in his sleep.''

 

He winced noticeably at Nori's ragged gasp and moved to the side to allow him space on the bed when the other stumbled forward across the room and sunk down on the mattress beside him, elbows resting on his knees and head held between his hands.

 

'' Daloa and Bombur lost someone, too.'' Bofur whispered with tears sliding down his cheeks. His brown eyes remained fixed upon the space where Nori had stood earlier.'' That's why I'm at my brother's house. Their first-born child; their daughter, Udeva, was taken by the sickness.''

 

'' No, really?!'' Nori whispered woodenly.'' Not sweet, caring little Udeva!''

 

'' Aye, and so many other families hav' lost someon' to that cursed sickness.'' Bofur answered bitterly.'' Bombur and Daloa wer' inconsolable whe' they woke at the crack of dawn to fin' the terrible sight of Udeva's lifeless eyes starin' up at the ceilin'. Bombur's eldes' son was the one who foun' his way to me house, sobbin' that his big sister's soul had gone to the Halls of Mandos.''

 

Bofur's voice cracked at the end and he buried his face in his hands.

….

 

Nori shivered violently when he heard his friend's muffled, hitching breath but for some strange reason his tongue and limbs had turned numb. He couldn't offer him a shoulder to lean on for comfort.

 

The last he'd seen of Bombur's eldest child, was her plump cheeks and sparkling emerald green eyes that always seemed to smile alongside her lips as she'd hugged the thief in greeting upon him visiting the 'Broadbeam' family.

 

He could hardly imagine those eyes amazingly colored eyes dull and lifeless and hauntingly empty.

 

As much as he couldn't bare to imagine his elder brother's blue eyes...

 

And Nori suddenly found the truth sinking in like an icy blade to the heart.

 

The darkness surrounding Dori's Teahouse! The fact that his brother hadn't been up and about at an hour when he usually was still sorting out paperwork!

 

The dreaded signs should have been so obvious when accompanied with the raven's delivered message, and yet he'd held on to foolish hope for so long.

 

The walls Nori had meticulously built around his heart for months came crashing down like a breached flood-gate and the first helpless cry of rage and agony finally escaped past his lips.

 

_He hadn't been there when his big brother needed his presence! He hadn't been allowed to say his goodbyes!_

 

So taken by grief, he was, that he barely realized that his friend's strong arms circled around him in a tight embrace whilst he continued to weep raggedly until all tears would be spent, and no more left to give.

 

And Bofur remained a solid weight at his back,sniffling every now and then as he revisited the devastation that had struck his family and dearest friends.

….

 

It would be almost dawn before Nori and Bofur found much needed sleep, sprawled utterly spent on the length of the bed beside each other like the brothers they were at heart.

…

 

Bifur, who'd been startled awake and aware by Nori's loud, agonised cry, had layed awake for hours with Bombur's youngest child clutching onto him while sleeping; waiting for the inevoidable exhaustion to finally sweep over the two younger dwarrows before daring to venture into Bofur's courters with the child clinging tightly to his clothes and thick grey beard.

 

He watched his cousin and Nori for a long moment with more awareness in his eyes than he'd shown in months before carefully sitting down on the edge of the bed.

 

Reaching out slowly, the eldest 'Broadbeam' ever so lightly stroked Bofur's tangled, unbraided chestnut colored locks (why where they damp?); then Nori's, who's ginger hair had almost completely lost it's star-shaped hairstyle.

 

Neither of the friends stirred at his contact, for which Bifur was very thankful for.

 

Bofur still tended to startle if Bifur made sudden moves towards him; or by waking him up with too rough contact.

 

 

And if Bofur woke up scared, then Nori might've done something drastic whilst still not entirely comprehending of his surroundings upon waking; and Bifur did not want that to happen when he was holding Bombur's little boy who was quietly mumbling in his sleep.

 

He stayed there with them for hours on end, not having the heart to try and wake them until much later that day when a misty-eyed and sniffling Bombur and Daloa had finished cooking a simple meal for everyone.

 

…...

 

(Closing words)

 

After the funeral of Dori son of Fori and Udeva daughter of Bombur and Daloa (that took place a fortnight after Nori had returned to Erebor), Nori son of Fori found that not all his tears had been spent that night he'd broken down in the arms of his friend.

 

The reason, a letter his brother had written and one that had never found it's way to the hands of the wandering little brother whilst Dori had still been amongst the living.

…....

 

The End....

 


	2. Shards and Wool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, this chapter was a pain to write. Needed to forego ideas left and right because I wasn't happy about the outcome. Still not, completely satisfied, come to think.

.....

It seemed like hours had gone by till Nori eventually raised his head from his knees. His face was damp from the tears that had trailed down the corners of his eyes and over his cheeks. His eyes (a deep brown color) were red rimmed and puffy from all the tears he's shed upon finding that last correspondence from Dori.

Wincing from the headache that pulsed behind his eyes, the still grieving dwarrow carefully pocketed the small pieces of fragile parchment and slowly rose to his feet, wobbling for a moment and gasping at the tingles in his limbs that had not been moved since he'd slumped on the floor of the shop.

He made his way towards the stone stairs, dodging the furniture he'd thrown about and destroyed in his grief-induced madness.

…

 

The stairs lead up to a short corridor with six rooms (three on either side. With the ones on the left being the empty guestrooms).

 

Nori's feet led him to the first door on the right.

 

His own room!

 

One that had no carving on the stone door to welcome it's owner. He stood there staring at the smooth stone for a long moment, contemplating wether to seek entrance, but eventually deciding against entering that particular room.

 

He would find no rest in his own bed tonight.

 

Padding softly down the corridor, he came to a halt in front of a another door with a carving of a half-unrolled parchment and a ink-bottle and quill beside their family crest.

 

Ori's room!

 

 

Swallowing hard, Nori traced the carvings before opening the door and stepping inside the room. He cursed under his breath when he realized upon first glance that nothing had been changed! Nothing moved from its original position!

 

He just had to leave it all up to Nori to wrestle with himself.

 

'' Dori, you fuss-potted old fool! You jus' had to leave all of this up to me to deal with!'' Nori mumbled without any real ire in his voice.''

 

Dori obviously hadn't the heart to store their little-brother's belongings into storage- boxes, or he'd simply found comfort in leaving their little brother's belongings the way he'd left them upon his departure to Khazad Dum all those years ago.

 

Like Nori would, too, for now at least until he could find heart to do something with all the belongings in the large room.

 

The crime-lord swallowed before making his way further into the dusty room; and towards a familiar tunic of soft wool sitting proudly on top the chair near Ori's bed which was littered with used parchment and books.

He looked down at the article of clothing with sad eyes. The usually vibrant ultramarine blue color now seemed bleak without its original owner wearing it at home.

He held out a hand to trace the intricate patterns of the expensive material that their father had come home with as a gift for their mother, and one she'd not used until finding inspiration upon finding how much Ori had liked wearing woolen clothing.

She'd taken it out to create a birthday present for him, but she was gone before she'd been able to finish it for him.

A misty eyed Dori had been the one to finish making the tunic and mittens that Jalane hadn't been able to finish before her time in this world had ended.

Making a split decision, Nori began to remove his own worn brown mittens and set them down on the armrests of the chair. Reaching for the strings of his black and white leather coat he opened them and shrugged it off. The grey leather tunic with many pockets was also removed and set aside.

Now standing with only his thin, black blouse covering his chest he lifted the soft wool with shaky hands and brought it close to his nose, futilely hoping to catch a whiff of his brother's scent on it; but over forty years was well over the time it took for scents to leave the material.

Sighing quietly, Nori quickly pulled it over his head before moving to hide its vibrant colors with the more muted colored articles of clothing.

He would continue to wear it every day from this day forth as a reminder of the sweet, loving little brother Ori had been whilst part of this world, but he would hide it like Bilbo had done with his Mithril-shirt.

...

 

Before heading out of his brother's room, the thief turned to glance at the unused bed and and desk; both that were characteristically messy with rolls of parchment. And books.

Nori couldn't help but laugh out loud as he viewed the scene so unlike their elder brother's way of putting things away in their places.

Without taking another glance around the room, Nori quickly left the bedroom and almost slammed the behind him as he exited. He leaned against the cool stone for a moment (still laughing, but with a hint of tears to his voice) before making his way to the last bedroom of the house.

 

A constricting lump appeared in his throat again as he looked up at the carving of a teacup, teapot and knitting materials surrounding the family crest.

Finally, he lifted a hand to the door-knob and prized the door open for entry.

Immediately he realized this room remained almost entirely unhanged from the last time Nori had payed Dori a visit. Like Ori's, the room was unchanged by time; but unlike their little brother's, almost nothing was out of place.

No books or parchment littered the desk or bed (which was the only area of the room that had been tampered with; the bed-spread and quilt set aside.

A sharp pain slammed into Nori's heart at the realization as to why the bed remained so out of place to the otherwise tidy room and he slammed the door shut behind him before falling to his knees, clutching the pocket where he'd stashed Dori's letter.

This was the bed his brother had layed sick and weak from pneumonia; burning with a dangerously high fever until death took him. His motionless body had been removed from the bed and the bed had been left unmade. Because if Dori hadn't layed in this bed during his sickness, the bed would not have been in such dissaray.

Because Dori would never have left it thus. He would have straightened it out before leaving his chambers.

 

Nori shut his eyes tightly and willed himself to not cry again. He wouldn't show anymore weakness! But Mahal was it difficult not to weep when he remembered entering Dori's room that night he last came to visit him.

 

Dori's startled expression had been worth the prank Nori had come up with by slamming the window open once unlocking it from the outside.

 

The anger on Dori's age wrinkled face when he'd entered the room with cat-like grace and a self-satisfied smirk adorning his more youthful face features, was too. But soon that anger had melted into relief at seeing him come home. The joy that had quickly followed the relief as Dori had risen from his seat in front of his wooden desk and made his way around it to greet the wayward brother whom had been gone for months.

The feel of Dori's strong, but immensely gentle hands on his cheeks as he pulled his little brother's head forward to gently bump- foreheads as a way of greeting before abruptly pushing him away and cuffing the back of his head lightly (lightly for him) with an open palm.

 **'' Don't ever come inside the house like that again, Nori!''** had been Dori's words of admonishment as Nori had just laughed at the situation whilst rubbing the back of his head.

All those switching emotions on his brother's face had been worth the accomplished prank and he'd contemplated trying a similar one upon his latest return.

But alas, he'd been robbed of the change to make his brother showing such emotions, again.

….

 

Sighing heavily, Nori rose to his feet and made his way over to Dori's writing-desk that faced the window he'd climbed through to prank his brother.

He was delighted to see the familiar teacup and pot sitting on the desk; the very same cup Dori had been holding and one he almost dropped in his fright at Nori's sudden and unceremonious entry to his bedroom.

Nori dropped into the large, comfortable chair and layed his arms on the desk to pillow his head. His left hand reached out to finger the porceline teapot and cup, before pulling the tray so far backwards that the cool touch of the materials were against his cheek.

 

This teacup and pot were what Dori always used in the solitary of his bedroom whenever he needed to enjoy a cup of tea. A relic from the past, like Ori's tunic; and a birthday present from their mother.

Like the the long knife which had once belonged to their father, Fori the Blade Driver; and which Nori now carried everywhere but rarely used.

 

Jalane had been holding it in her keeping until Nori had been old enough to be its wielder. And Nori had been so very proud to have been given something of their late father's.

...

 

The thief's teeth clenched together as he pulled out the knife and lay it down on the table to rest against the other relics of the past.

His brown eyes had moticed a certain parchment lying so innocently on the table.

It was the contract Ori had signed upon his decision to go along with the quest to reclaim Khazad Dum back from the enemy that had festered into its halls. The halls of the dwarven forefathers.

 

Oh, Nori could well remember the goodbyes he and Dori had shared with their little brother on the eve of their kin's departure.

And the words Ori had spoken when he'd handed the blue tunic to Dori with solemn words of:

 

**'' This is an important gift from mother and you, Dori, and I would loath it to see it lost in blood and gore if the battle for Khazad Dum goes ill for us. When the time comes that the halls of our forefathers are retaken and their splendour assured, I shall return to reclaim this back.** **And I hope you and Nori will come back with me to see the splendours of Khazad Dum's halls.''**

 

But alas, the promises that had been exchanged between the three brothers never came to be.

For five years Ori had kept up correspondence with his elder brothers but then the correspondence dried up like a river.

And Dori, though extremely worried for what it might've meant, had no longer been in as good shape as he'd been during the quest for Erebor and couldn't venture into the wild to journey to the Halls of Moria.

His health had abruptly taken a bad downward spiral and a worried Nori had insisted on staying in the confines of Erebor until Dori had recovered completely.

And it took nigh six years for him to fully recuperate. Rivendell had been informed of Dori's plight and Lord Elrond had travelled all the way to the dwarven Kingdom to confirm the reason for the slow recovery.

Much to Nori's consternation and fury, the reasons had all pointed to the still lingering after-effects of the Desert- Flower poisoning. Nori had vented his anger that day by trashing his room that night, and Dori had been lost in the memories of events long solved for the better.

 

But afterwards when Dori was well enough to be in charge of his work; when he'd finally told Nori politely but firmly to get out of his shop before he booted him out the door himself, why hadn't Nori thought of venturing to the other Dwarven- Kingdom to seek answers to his little brother's fate?

Could it have been because he'd been so estatic of his newfound freedom that he'd simply wanted to be lonesome for a while and had decided to go off on his ventures for the longest time yet. For nigh ten years with barely a note once a year to inform Dori that he was still among the living.

 

And when the truth of Ori's fate finally came forth... it had been devastating for every living member of their former company. To Dwalin and Gloin even more so as they'd, too, had lost brothers.

 

Why did another sickness have to claim Dori when Nori had hoped to be reunited with him again; to share fond memories and stories of the wayward- brother's resent journeys?

 

Why...?

 

Nori carefully pulled out the letter from his pocket and unfurled it on the table. He stared at the words written on the parchment with pain filled eyes.

 

Why had Dori not talked to him of his fears that Nori might one day come to a realization that he didn't care to come back home to Erebor now that Ori wasn't there to greet him upon his return.

Did he think he wasn't worthy enough to warrant a brother's continuing visits? To make sure he wasn't lonely? To see if his health still held?

 

Because it wasn't true!

 

Yes, if there was something that hadn't changed as they'd both aged, it was that they couldn't hold one single visit without breaking into a verbal fist-clashes whenever the spymaster came calling at the door.

 

But never had Nori sought a reason to abandon Dori for good.

 

He was his elder brother and Nori loved him dearly.

 

Nori abruptly stood and smashed a fist against the hard wood of Dori's desk. And a second time, before shouting out loud into the silence of the bedroom-chamber:

 

**'' You and Ori were always more important than my craft! More important than any treasure I came to own! And now... now I've lost you both!''**

 

He sat back down shakily as his legs collapsed underneath him and buried his face in his arms again, shaking, for a long moment.

It turned out to be the sound of a small cracking sound beside him that brought Nori's head up again.

His expression turned to one of astonishment when he realized what had caused the noise.

 

A long, jagged crack had appeared on Dori's teacup; running from the top and slithered around the painted and branded outlines of Dori's name in Khuzdul.

After all these years, the age-worn tea-item had finally reached its limits of use.

Nori stood frozen for only a second before carefully pulling his father's old knife from its sheath. Holding his breath, he delicately tapped the pommel against the cracks in the poceline.

 

Click,click,click, clink!

 

The cracks widened and the most affected area caved inwards with a soft clinking sound.

With deftly fingers, Nori reached into the wide hole in the middle of the pot and extracted the loose piece from the bottom of the pot.

For a moment he contemplated where to put the small shard to keep safe, but then remembered one of the latest treasures he'd nicked on his excursion; one which had been in the pocket of his tunic throughout the journey back to Erebor, and the funeral.

He pulled out a silver chain with a square locket and prized open the lid of the locket to see what was inside.

 

He smiled.

 

There was enough room to fit the shard easily but he would have to fortify the opening mechanism before going back into the wild. He wouldn't want to loose this piece of his brother's most prized belongings.

He sniffled as he gently put the shard in the middle of the locket and closed the lid before looping the necklace around his neck.

He had never liked the thought of carrying lockets holding paintings of his siblings like Gloin still did (just with different paintings as his wife and son had changed much in appearance over the years); but wearing Ori's tunic, and the loket holding something of importance to Dori felt right to him.

They would be physical reminders that he'd been a middle-brother; that he hadn't always been the last of his family still walking the paths of Middle- Earth.

He would carry a part of Dori and Ori with him everyday from this day forth, and he would treasure his friendships with those of Thorin Oakenshield's company who still remained to exist in Middle Earth with him.

They were his support-system! The people he could turn to when things became tough for him.

 

There was just one thing that he'd wished he'd done sooner; something he regretted not saying to those two he had cared so much about. And it had come to his head abruptly when he curled up in the comfy armchair like a cat looking for a comfortable position to sleep in.

 

''I love you, Dori,'' Nori whispered.'' I love you, Ori.''

 

He closed his eyes, mumbling:

 

**'' Wish I had told you both that, and not kept the words inside until it was too late for me to say them out loud for you to hear.''**

 

**…**

 

**End of Chapter 2**

 

**...**

 


End file.
